“If you ask them to stop,” I said, turning to face Penny, “they’ll stop.”
He blinked up at me. Tears rolled down his flushed cheeks and his eyes were unfocused. He looked relieved, and I was torn. What I’d read in his letters home floated to the forefront of my mind. I knew how much he wanted my approval, how much he liked me being proud of him. He’d said in passing how homesick he’d been and, as much as he wanted to prove Merrick wrong, there was a part of him that wanted to go home. If he stopped them now, he could go back to the farm and his life there. He wouldn’t have to suffer through any more of the atrocities that were to come.
But then I would be alone. And, selfishly, I didn’t want to go back to that house and its ghosts without him. I didn’t want to face this hell by myself. I didn’t want to lose the only person who thought I was a good man. And the odds of Merrick letting Penny leave and not making a play for the farm were less than slim.
I hated myself as I pressed on. “But if they stop, you have to go. It’s over.” I motioned toward the Sentinel at the brazier. “It’s one more piece. You’ve made it this far; you can finish this.”
Penny’s ragged breaths frayed my nerves as I waited for his response. I must have put on a brave enough face tosway him because he gave the slightest nod. The Sentinel lifted the last branding iron from the fire.
Penny would never forgive me for this.
The Sentinel spoke, and Penny repeated the last of the tenets. “I give up all attachments, recognizing that material possessions and worldly connections are transient. I will strive to detach myself from the illusion of permanence, finding contentment in the present moment and the divine.”
I wanted to look away as the final strike of the brand bit into Penny’s flesh, but I couldn’t.
I’ddone this to him.
I’d set him on this path against my better judgment and hadn’t fought hard enough when he decided he wanted to be more than a layperson. The utter misery on his face was mine to own. He was too gentle for this, but there was no going back now.
Levitt spoke from his seat on the dais as the Sentinel returned the iron to the fire. “Welcome to the fold, Penwell.”
I tried not to notice Merrick watching as I hefted Penny from the chair. The younger Oliver sagged against me, sparking a wave of pain as he brushed against the raw skin of my brand. I endured it and curled an arm around his shoulders to keep him on his feet. He was in no state to wrestle his shirt over his head, so I grabbed it and tucked it into my belt before practically dragging him from the ritual chamber.
Back in the atrium, the other recruits were too busy talking amongst themselves to notice while I leaned Penny against the wall.
“Think you can get your arms into this?” I offered my shirt. “Hopefully, it’ll be loose enough to be more comfortable than yours.”
He sniffled and looked past the shirt at my face. “What about you?”
I gave a quick shake of my head. “Don’t worry about me.”
Penny swayed as I guided his left arm into the sleeve. Sweat beaded on his brow with the pain.
I tugged him in by his right arm, not trusting his legs to hold him. “Lean on me,” I said softly. “I don’t want to have to scrape you off the floor if you fall.”
His head dropped onto my shoulder, and his hair brushed my cheek. My maimed chest protested the effort as I reached around behind him to guide his right arm into the other sleeve. Doing up the buttons with him huddled so close was no easy feat, but I managed to get at least half of them before I gave up.
“Think you can make it home?” I asked, wondering the same thing about myself.
He nodded weakly and eased himself back. After a couple of deep breaths, he started toward the door.
Penny made the return trip to the house in silence, pale-faced and exhausted. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was cursing the day he’d knocked on my door. Surely this wasn’t how he’d seen things going when he sought me out. He’d come seeking an easy answer, a quick solution, and instead, he followed me like a sheep to slaughter.
He sank onto the couch as soon as we got inside. The blank look on his face made my stomach churn with guilt, so I took my time building a fire in the hearth to avoid staring at him any longer. But the heat of the flames against my bare chest proved unbearable, so it wasn’t long before I settled onto the other side of the couch.
“I’m sorry I asked you to come here,” Penny said so softly I almost missed it under the popping of the kindling.
When I looked over, tears were running down his face.
“I’m sorry they burned you.” His voice hitched. “I’m so sorry.”
I scooted close and rested my hand on his knee. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I never should have dragged you into this. I should have let you stop them. I should have let you go home and forget all about this.”
While he stared at my hand, tears beaded on his long lashes. He had a pretty sort of face, more delicate than most men, and the way my shirt puddled around him reminded me he was built that way, too. Lanky and tall, all muscle and bone no matter how many pastries he ate.
“I miss Sayla,” he mumbled. “I miss Mother and Father.”
That guilt was back, and I offered the only comfort I could think of.
